


Never Been Kissed: Night Vale Edition

by Indybaggins



Category: Cabin Pressure, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Airports, Angst, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Humor, Jealous Douglas, Kissing, M/M, Night Vale, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, a bit of Martin Crieff/Arthur Shappey, a tiny bit of Martin Crieff/Carolyn Knapp-Shappey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indybaggins/pseuds/Indybaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin has never been kissed. That’s never been a problem, really, or not until they unexpectedly land in Night Vale airport that is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Been Kissed: Night Vale Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daasgrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daasgrrl/gifts), [kedugost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedugost/gifts).



> For Daasgrrl, who is my favourite fic writer in the world, and Kedugost, who is my oldest fandom friend from all the way back in the LOTR fandom. I hope you both enjoy this! 
> 
> Beta and Brit-picking was by the lovely Gutterflower, thank you!

 

 

They left from LAX. 

Martin is absolutely, 100% sure that they left from LAX, and that they were going to Fitton, without any passengers. 

Except that there was a passenger. Or maybe just the sense of a passenger. The idea that someone, some entity, was with them on that journey, wanting to go home. But then everyone in the world wants to go home in some way or other, do they not? What is home, really, but an idea? A comfort, never quite realised? 

Martin blinks. That’s strange, it’s like there was a voice in his head for a moment.

And now they’ve landed somewhere in the middle of the desert, at a small airport called ‘Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport’. 

Martin doesn’t remember landing. Or even wanting to come here at all. He is aware that he should feel panic, and confusion, but instead he just feels the gentle suggestion that everything will be all right, if he just stays calm. 

And then Martin wants to feel very _not_ calm about that, but the suggestion becomes like a man’s baritone, telling him to crawl through a long, dark tunnel, while he recites ways to die. It’s a long tunnel. Martin’s knees hurt by the time that they’re at “Exsanguination though attack by five-headed dragon.” And then when he starts to see some light at the end and hears, “Giving birth to a living tree,” he gets out, into a modern-looking airport arrivals hall. 

Arthur is there already, not looking spooked at all. And soon Carolyn and Douglas simmer into existence, as if they just arrived from a shady bit of nowhere that none of them are allowed to look at. Douglas is dusting some dirt off his knees. 

There is a TSA officer whispering, “Which one of you has the nail varnish in his pocket?” 

Martin glances at Douglas, who looks up with his best ‘who, me?’ expression, but the agent continues, “Just because that’s like, cool, bro. Anyway, answer this and then you lot can go home again to...” there is the sound of paper shuffling, “Fi-tton. Huh. That must be one of those made-up places.” 

And then there is the voice of a young child coming from an air vent, saying, “Please name every person that you have ever kissed.” 

Martin looks up, not sure that he understood, “What?” 

Carolyn asks, “What kind of airport security is this? And how old are you?” 

Martin wants to turn towards Carolyn and agree with her, this isn’t standard procedure or any procedure that he has ever heard of _at all_ , but Martin can’t see Carolyn. He’s alone. In a long, lit corridor, and there is nothing there but the air vent, and the child’s voice asking him, “Please name every person that you have ever kissed.” 

Martin can still hear the others just as clearly as if they’re standing right next to him - Arthur is the first to reply, he says, “I suppose... my first time kissing someone was Poncy? She was at my pony club when I was eight. She had braces and her pony was called Fiddles.” But he can’t see them. 

Douglas sighs deeply, and then says, “Do you just want the highlights, or the whole list? Because if you do... well, you might want to _get comfy_.” 

The child repeats, “Please name every person that you have ever kissed.”

Arthur is saying, “Next was Jesamin, and Jessie, and Bessie, or no, first Bessie, I think?” 

And Martin just needs to avoid this and then he’s fine, then they’ll go home and... But there is the voice of the child, again, “Please name every person that you have ever kissed.”

“ _Why_ do I have to tell you?” There is no reason why he should tell these people! None at all! 

Carolyn’s voice joins the others with, “My sister’s boyfriend, George something? He had cigarettes, that’s all I remember.” So now she’s doing it as well?!

Douglas says, “...I can’t say that it was the _entire_ class of ’74, but let’s say, oh, ninety percent of them?” 

Martin breathes, and tries not to hyperventilate. This doesn’t make sense! None at all! Where are they? Why is this happening?!

The TSA agent’s voice pops up, “Um, look, it’s easy, all you have to do is name every person that you have ever kissed. Don’t panic, or anything.”

“I’m not panicking!” Martin looks around, but no, all he can see is the bland walls, and the vent. Even though he can hear everyone else just fine.

Arthur is cheerfully listing, “Minty, Lizzie, Libbit, Pobs, Polly, Rusty...”

“We are registering a heartbeat of over 140 beats per minute - in your species, that’s panic, isn’t it? That or excitement. Arousal? I’m never sure.” 

Douglas is saying, “Of course, in med school, that year alone we’re talking somewhere around three dozen? Four?” He chuckles. “Pilot training a bit less, mostly an all-boy’s club, that. But then once I got the uniform, oh!” 

Carolyn is at, “He used to come by our candy store on a motorcycle, my mother hated him. He’s a plumber now, actually, still sends me Christmas cards.” 

“We can’t let you go without answering the question. It’s, like, against Night Vale safety regulations.”

What? “No, it’s not!” Martin is absolutely sure that there is nothing about that in the safety regulations anywhere, ever. 

Arthur says, “And then Cinnamon, and Tiffy. I think that’s it. Or all I can remember, anyway.” 

Douglas says, with a lazy tilt to his voice, “...and a Kink. I don’t know which one, I don’t follow music. He had a beard, if that helps? Prickly sod.” 

Martin swallows. He’s not sure whether he was supposed to hear that. 

The agent sighs, “Everything you say will be treated with the utmost confidentiality and only shared with the top twenty government agencies, funeral homes, and credit card companies.” He sounds expectant, as if that is meant to change something. 

Martin tries, quietly, “Just let me go?” 

“I will, when you answer the question.” The agent mumbles, “Foreigners...”

Carolyn says, “Oh, yes, my first ex-husband’s brother, I forgot about that. Then Gordon, although God knows I regret every second of _that_...” 

Martin can hear Douglas say, “And all of my ex-wives, of course, Helena would be last. That should give you a good cross-section of the top one hundred or so, I’d think?”

“Well, I won’t answer the question!”

And then, proving that yes, they can all hear him, too, Douglas says, “Martin? What’s going on?”

“He won’t let me go.”

“ _He_ has not named a single person that he has ever kissed.”

Douglas sighs, “Martin, just do it, all right?”

Carolyn is still going, “I do have an online profile, so some men from there, Rodrigo I think his name was? The odd dog-walker, it really is a good way to meet people...” 

Martin steps close to the vent, lowers his voice, and says, “Look, just let me go, please? Or I can make one up? Mary. Yes, that, I kissed Mary.” 

Carolyn finishes, “And then Herc. That’s it.” 

A brief pause. Shuffling of papers. 

“You are lying.”

“Yes! Yes I am, but if that’s going to make you let me go, then, well....” 

Carolyn asks the others, “What’s going on? Why isn’t Martin here yet?” 

Douglas says, “They’re still questioning him.” 

“Why?” Carolyn sounds surprised. “Don’t tell me that he has that long of a list to get through.” 

Arthur says, “Well, maybe he doesn’t want to tell? Martin is a private sort of person. He’s never told me about any date that he’s had, ever. Or any girlfriends, either. ...Or boyfriends.”

Carolyn sighs, “Yes, one wonders why.” Then yells, “Martin, just get on with it! We have to go!” 

Martin yells back, “Just a second!” He whispers into the vent, “All right, don’t tell him. Um. _Them._ But I haven’t... I’ve never...” he takes a deep breath, he hasn’t admitted this out loud in a very long time, but, “I’ve never kissed anyone, okay?” 

There’s a click, a short buzzing sound, and the corridor changes to the exact same airport terminal where they were standing before. None of them have moved at all, they’re still standing there, together. Looking at him. 

The TSA agent suddenly appears from behind a hidden panel. He’s wearing a bright orange balaclava, and sighs, deeply. “You know you weren’t meant to lie, right?”

“What? I didn’t lie!”

“You said, and I quote,” he reads it from a piece of parchment, sounding bored, “All right, don’t tell him, um, them, but I haven’t, I’ve never, I’ve never kissed anyone, okay.” 

Why did he have to repeat that? Martin can see the brief shock on Douglas’ face that’s soon going to become mockery, and he looks away and tries not to blush too obviously. “I wasn’t lying.” 

The TSA officer clutches the piece of parchment in a gloved hand. It looks like it has writing on it, in blood. Also it’s oozing a little. “We have you on record as being thirty-four years old, and a captain.” 

“Yes!” Martin says, quickly, at least that makes sense, and he clutches to it as a lifeline, “That’s true. I am. Yes. The captain. That’s correct.” 

“And you haven’t kissed anyone? At all?”

Martin can feel his cheeks burn. “I’ve been... busy.” 

The TSA man says, “Well, you can’t leave until you have been sufficiently kissed, it’s just not safe.” 

One of the vents opens, and a small, strangely featureless child steps out. “There is poetry both in the sharing of the soul, and sailing on wings in the sky. One cannot be fulfilled without the other.” 

Martin looks back at the others. They’re all looking as confused as he is, at least. 

Carolyn says, “Douglas, you sort this.” 

Douglas raises his eyebrows, “ _No._ ”

“No? What do you mean, no?!”

“I am not going to kiss Martin _so we can get through security_ \- Carolyn, this is ridiculous!”

“No, of course you’re not, I meant go talk to the...” she hesitates, and gestures in the direction of the agent, “ _Person_ , and figure something out.” Then she glances at Douglas, and grins slyly, “But yes, if you’d rather kiss Martin, by all means!”

Martin’s sure that he’s had dreams that go this way. 

They usually turn into nightmares of some sort.

He faces the TSA officer, and tries to reason with him, “Isn’t there another way? That doesn’t involve, um,” he can barely say it, “ _kissing?_ ” There always is. There has to be. Some bribe or, Douglas can figure it out. He can. 

The agent shifts, producing the effect of a large, orange wave. “Well, there’s always blood sacrifice? But you outsiders are so squeamish about that, that’s why we changed it to kissing, seemed easier. But sure,” he tilts his head speculatively, “How much blood do you think you can spare?” 

“Um.” Martin can hear his voice go all high and strange. “Maybe... not.” 

“I’ll do it.” Arthur comes to stand next to him.

“What, _sacrifice your blood_? No, you won’t.” Carolyn intervenes.

“Oh, no, I mean - I can kiss you, Martin.” Arthur looks at him. “If you need me to.” 

“Are you even _gay_ , Arthur?” Douglas sounds annoyed at that. 

“Well ...no.” Arthur looks at him with a frown. “But for a kiss that doesn’t matter, right? And I do like you, skip, it’s just not that I _like_ like you, I mean, I like girls.” He pauses. “Sorry.”

Martin’s head is spinning a little. He looks at the TSA agent. The strange, featureless child. He can’t work his way up to Douglas and Carolyn’s faces, so he stares at their shoes. 

It’s not like he was waiting for a special occasion or something like that. Martin wasn’t waiting, for a kiss. It just hasn’t happened. Won’t, happen, he’s pretty sure, because if you don’t get kissed before age thirty-four then it seems kind of silly to expect that suddenly it’ll happen the next year. Or the next. 

He’s stopped hoping, really. Plus, he’s never been into any of that anyway, he was always flying. Or trying to fly, working so he could fly. 

So Martin looks at Arthur, who is just trying to help, and says, “Fine, yes, you can... kiss me.” It’ll be like a hug, probably? A hug and lips. He can do that. 

“Oh, brilliant!” Arthur smiles, “I’m a great kisser, you’ll see.”

Douglas moves forward and says, with something tense in his voice, “ _Martin._ You don’t have to; we can get you out of this some other way, I _promise_.” 

“No, no, it’s, um, fine.” Martin’s already made them wait this long, and what kind of proper captain, or pilot, or even person, what kind of _proper adult person_ has never been kissed? It’s about time. And how hard can it be, really? Martin looks at Arthur, takes a breath, and says, “Go ahead.”

Arthur steps close, and Martin was right, it does start out a lot like a hug. He’s never been that great at giving hugs, but Arthur hugs often, so Martin’s used to it. To Arthur’s arms, and the feeling of him close by. 

Arthur says, quietly, into his ear, so the others can’t hear, “Don’t be scared, okay?” 

And Martin nods, quickly, aware that he’s being watched by Carolyn and a TSA agent and a creepy child and _Douglas_. Did it have to be Douglas? Why does it always...

Then Arthur moves his face close, and huh, Martin can feel Arthur’s breath on his lips, that’s a little strange. 

And then Arthur’s lips touch his. They’re warm. Martin keeps his own lips pressed together, and then he remembers that that is not how you kiss, so he opens them, awkwardly. 

Arthur kind of licks between his lips, his tongue is right there, wet. It tickles, mainly - a strange pleasant tickle that goes all the way from Martin’s toes to his stomach and kind of lodges there. 

Martin tries to kiss him back, then, presses his tongue forward to Arthur’s. It feels strange. 

He knows that he’s blushing. Especially as Arthur adjusts his grip, and pulls him in closer and that feels really nice, enough that Martin can almost not breathe for a second. He knows that he makes a small sound, because Arthur hums back, a soft, pleased hum, and Martin can feel it vibrate in his chest. 

He is kissing Arthur. He really, really is kissing Arthur. 

Arthur’s tongue swipes his, a little playfully, and Martin steps even closer, feels Arthur’s arms tighten, and...

Then there is Douglas’ voice, very close by, “Yes, that’s _QUITE_ enough now, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur lets go. 

Martin is a bit sad to feel the cold air on his face. He feels dazed, and warm, and his lips are tingling. 

Arthur’s eyes seem all alight, “There, I told you that it would be good!”

“It... yes.” It was nothing like it’s in the books, or on TV. It wasn’t magical, or Martin’s heart didn’t stop or anything, but it was sort of nice? Martin wouldn’t mind doing it again. 

“Now that that’s settled, can we go?” Carolyn sounds a little amused. 

But Douglas is looking really, really bothered. He’s got his hands balled, and he’s red in the face, too. Martin’s eyes linger on him, and he fights the impulse to say that he’s sorry. Because he isn’t. He _had_ to do this, and Douglas didn’t even offer, so no. No, he’s not sorry. 

The child says, again, “Please name every person that you have ever kissed.”

Oh, um, “Arthur Shappey,” Martin says it quickly. 

But the agent shakes his head, “Not going to be enough, you’re already in your thirties.” 

“What do you mean, it’s not _enough_?” What else does he need to do?! He’s _really_ not comfortable doing anything more than that in the middle of an airport arrivals hall. 

Arthur offers, “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“No, you need more variety if you want to get to the minimum requirement.” 

Martin looks at Douglas, just a glance, he can’t help it. He’s not sure if he’s afraid that Douglas will offer, or afraid that he won’t. Just... 

Douglas has seen, and he opens his mouth to say something, just as Carolyn sighs, “Oh, for the love of god!” 

She steps up, and - Martin feels a flash of surprise mixed in with terror - presses her lips to his. It’s fast and hard and there’s a curl of Carolyn’s hair brushing his face and her lips are just a little wet. She pulls back immediately. “There!” 

Martin blinks. 

“I’m sorry, Martin,” Carolyn says, and she looks as if she really is sort of sorry, “but _now_ can we go?” 

Martin wants to wipe his lips with the back of his hand, but he’s pretty sure that that wouldn’t be polite. 

“I don’t know, Carolyn, now that you’ve kissed the same man as your son just did, we might want to stick around and see what other _delightful little scenario_ happens next!” 

Douglas sounds _angry_. He looks it, too. 

So Martin turns to the child, says quickly, “Arthur Shappey and Carolyn Knapp-Shappey,” and hopes that he can get away right now.

It shakes its head. “Love unqualified needs connection.” 

The TSA agent looks at him. 

The child adds, gravely. “Solar eclipse.” 

The agent sighs, and says, “Yeah, try him,” he points at Douglas, “too, that should do it.” 

Martin looks at Douglas, and he can feel a knot of tension in his stomach. Douglas doesn’t want to kiss him. “No, I don’t think that...” 

But Douglas looks at Carolyn, and says, “I imagine we can forget that this ever happened?” 

“Yes, yes, of course.” Carolyn says it quickly. “Your manliness will remain completely intact. Now go ahead and kiss Martin, we need to be at La Guardia by noon and we’re already late.” 

“Well, those are words I never thought I’d hear.” Douglas says them darkly, but when he turns around and faces him, Martin can see a flicker of fear in his eyes. 

Oh. 

“What happens at _Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport_ stays at _Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport_.” The TSA agent notes. “It’s our airport motto.” 

He shifts, “Also, what breathes at _Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport_. What moves, what dies, what is reborn. We can never leave, we are the airport, the airport is us.” 

He pauses thoughtfully. “I have it on a t-shirt.” 

Martin looks at Douglas, and says, “You don’t have to. If you don’t want to.” And Martin would think that he would hate saying that, but he doesn’t, Douglas doesn’t have to, it’s not like that - it’s never been like that. 

Douglas smiles, briefly, “It does seem to be _the thing_ today. Don’t want to miss out.” 

He still seems as if he’s not sure. 

So Martin steps forward, first. He does it like Arthur did, he puts an arm around Douglas. And then he realises that he’s looking at Douglas’ chest, so Martin get up on his toes, and aims a kiss to the corner of Douglas’s mouth. It works, it’s a soft brush of lips, and then Martin leans back. That’s enough, right? 

But Douglas’ hand has reached out to steady him. It’s splayed warm on his lower back. 

Douglas leans in, just a bit, and their lips brush together again. Martin can feel it spark something hot in his chest. He breathes, and his mouth opens a bit. 

Douglas leans over him, and kisses his mouth, really lightly. 

His forehead connects with his, and Martin tilts his head, puts a hand in Douglas’ neck and kisses him again, a soft press, _yes_. 

Douglas makes a sound, an exhale, and then he kisses him back, a tiny little shiver, and then his mouth is full on his. The change in pressure feels _monumental_ , Martin can feel it rush through him, and he wraps his arms around Douglas’ back, holds him tight and tries to kiss him back. Only Douglas pulls him in close and they’re standing there, clutching each other. Martin’s heart sort of hurts, and his hands shake, and he can’t swallow it away, this. There are tears in his eyes, for some reason. His nose burns.

Martin only very slowly hears that there are sounds all around them. 

Arthur is saying, sounding impressed, “ _Wow_ , that was just like in the films! But not in the beginning, at the very end, when they finally get together? That sort of kiss.” 

Douglas has heard Arthur, too, because he smiles, just a bit. He moves back, but his hands are very slow to let go. Martin’s are, too. They want to stay right there and pull him close again.

But he doesn’t. 

Carolyn says, “Well, now we’ve added in some _true love’s kiss_ , perhaps we could depart now?” 

Martin looks at the child, says, sounding a bit hoarse, “I’ve kissed Arthur Shappey, Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, and,” he can feel a warm pinch of disbelief in his chest as he says it, “Douglas Richardson.” 

The child blinks, very slowly. It has lizard-like eyes. 

The agent looks between them. Then he takes the form, presses his thumb to the paper, and says, sounding completely bored, “You’re free to leave.” 

And then, as Martin turns away, “You now are noted as having had both heterosexual and homosexual oral contact, so that certifies you to fly anywhere in the world. Except Luftnarp, obviously, you’d still need an entity of some sort for that, but well, I don’t suppose that that’s going to be an issue?” 

“No, that’s... fine.” 

Martin’s legs are trembling a little as they walk away. 

They can hear the agent talk on, “...Not that sexual orientation is a thing, really. Because isn’t everyone sort of one thing, and sort of the other? I mean - it’s hard to tell what’s under a balaclava at the best of times, and it’s not that I check every time before I go and have a soul-bond, you know. Who cares about genitalia I say, tell me what your moon ascendant is, am I right?” 

The child answers, “Ancient mandala. A shudder, in the middle of the night.” 

The agent hums in agreement. “Exactly.” 

As they walk further, their voices fall away. None of them are looking back, but Martin gets the sense that while they are not looking at the airport, the airport is still looking at them with a sort of silent question. _Why were you here? What did you find? Is an airport ever a destination, truly?_

 _Or does it simply put one on their path towards another place, and because of it, another self?_

GERTI is right where they left her on the runway. It seems as if there hasn’t been a single plane either arriving or leaving since they landed here. Martin checks his watch, four hours and forty-two minutes ago. 

Arthur says, quietly, but still loud enough that they can all hear it, “Are you all right, Martin?” 

“Me? Yes. Fine.” Martin doesn’t want to think about it too much right now because if he did he’s not sure what he would do. Cry. Laugh. Smile really, really hard. 

“No, it’s that, with me was your very first kiss, I mean, those are really special. You only ever get one. In your _whole life_.” 

“Um.” 

“And then _Mum_ kissed you! I mean, wow!”

“Arthur, dear, listen to me: from this moment on, we are pretending that that never happened, and we will continue to pretend as such until the end of time.” Carolyn seems determined about that. 

“No, but then it was the best bit, because with Douglas, that kiss was _amazing_. It’s like you're in love!” 

There’s a pause. 

They are all walking, but their feet don’t make a sound on the runway.

Arthur looks between them.

“ _Arthur._ ” Douglas says, warningly. 

But it’s too late, “Oh, wow, you _are_! You are in LOVE! Oh, that’s _brilliant_ , this was the best airport _ever_!” 

Martin knows he’s flushed, but he doesn’t reply. 

Carolyn says, dryly, “It was certainly something, yes.” 

They get inside of GERTI, and Martin is getting ready to do the pre-flight checks when there’s a strange sort of pull, and then all of a sudden they are back at LAX, lifting off. 

Martin scrambles to take the throttle, but it’s like they’re suspended for just a moment, and then they go. 

Arthur yells from somewhere he’s fallen in the galley, “Chaps, did you notice that the plane...” 

They both say, “Yes!” 

Also, according to the clock, they gained the hours back. It’s like they were never there at all. 

It takes a while for Martin’s heart to stop thudding hard in his chest. For his hands to stop shaking. He thinks about what to say.

Then, eventually, he says, “We can forget it ever happened.” 

That’s what Douglas wants. Just to forget. It’s okay. 

Douglas says, “If you want to, then yes.” 

Martin admits, to the clouds somewhere above Arizona, “I don’t want to.” And then stammers, and looks at Douglas, “Or I, I mean, I... I want to... With you.” Martin feels very small, saying that. 

Douglas’ eyes travel over him for a tense second. Then he says, “How does La Guardia sound? We can see if security is so keen on kissing there. Show them a thing or two.” 

Martin can feel himself flush at the thought. 

Douglas sees, and says, easily, “...Unless you’d rather go to dinner first, of course, I’m afraid we rather skipped the ‘wining and dining’ part of it all.” 

Martin thinks that what he’s saying is that they don’t have to kiss again straight away yet. That he can get used to it first. But no, Martin’s waited for thirty-four years; he’s done waiting now. So he nods, “La Guardia. I want, yes. La Guardia.” 

Douglas grins. “And what a fine airport it is...”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
